Besides, I’d finished the journal my aunt had given me, and it was useless—just an account of old magic, beliefs, miracles, and people who believed a higher being would save them if only they asked.
Leaving the balcony, I decided to tie bedsheets together and hope they would reach the ground. I was walking toward Oren’s bed when the door swung open.
10Tanith
Oren sagged against the doorframe, his skin unnaturally pale. My gut twisted with fear at his appearance. His fox-red hair was limp and matted to his neck. Thick globs of mud caked the side of his face and smeared the front of his clothing. Gathering his strength, he took a step into the room, his boots squelching with water. Gingerly, he held one hand to his chest, revealing dried blood on his arm.
I swallowed hard. Had my uncle sent an assassin? “Who attacked you?”
“No one,” he whispered hoarsely and pointed to the corner of the room.
I blinked until I saw what I’d overlooked before. A door painted the same color as the walls blended in effortlessly. It opened into a washroom and I scowled. For the past two days, I’d been bathing like a pauper when an ornate, claw-footed tub had been on the other side of the wall?
“Draw a bath,” he instructed.
I turned on the water, watching the heat rise as it poured into the tub. When I spun around to leave, Oren stood in the doorway, effectively blocking the exit. With some trouble, he tugged the shirt off his head, smearing more mud across his face. I should have glanced away from his impeccable body, his skin glistening with moisture, displaying no scars or blemishes—at least that I could see.
“Sit.” He pointed to a stool in a corner.
I’d wanted Oren to return, but not like this. I did not appreciate sitting in the washroom with him. “I’d rather go.”
“Stay.”
There was no firmness in his command, and given his state, I knew I could push past him and dash out of the room. When his hands went to the waistband of his trousers, I spun around.
“Have you ever seen a man naked?” He asked, a hint of glee in his tone.
“I was giving you privacy,” I retorted.
“I didn’t ask for it,” he quipped.
A moment later, the water splashed and I took it as my signal to face him. The water hid his lower body, and he leaned back, closing his eyes.
Another retort rose to my lips, but he appeared so peaceful lying like that, vulnerable, wounded, naked. Not devilish at all. My lower belly tingled with that twitch of attraction, and instead of tearing my eyes away from his perfect form, I eyed the curve of his muscles and the slope of his body until my face warmed. I dropped my gaze, but the memory of his kiss came back. I clasped my hands in my lap, as if that could keep me from acting on my thoughts.
“If I weren’t so filthy, would you join me in the tub?”
My eyes flashed to his, noting the laugher behind his amber gaze and the lightness in his tone.
“No,” I said firmly. “Why do you jest like that? We both know you have no interest in a marriage.”
He sat up and reached for the soap as color returned to his face. Suds formed as he slowly scrubbed away the filth. “I have an interest in you, my thief bride.”
“I’m not a thief. Well, not normally a thief. I was driven … forget it.” I sighed. “What happened to you? Were you attacked?”
“Magic,” he said, soaping his hair with both hands. “Tomorrow we will return to the palace to see what they think of what I’ve done, and to find out if the sorcerers can create a counter curse.”
I pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You did that to yourself for a curse? I thought you’d been attacked or my uncle had sent an assassin!”
“You seem upset, as if you worried about me while I was gone.”
His words struck a nerve. “Of course I worried. I was trapped in these rooms and the castle wouldn’t let me out. You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Making all the doors open to staircases that led up.”
To my surprise, Oren’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t my doing, Tanith. The gargoyle is your guard to keep you from escaping. I did not enchant the castle.”
“Pip?” I stared.
His brow creased. “Who is Pip?”
